


Process

by HogwartsToAlexandria



Series: Marie's Ironstrange Bingo Fills 2019 [5]
Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Iron Man (Movies)
Genre: Angry Peter, Domestic Fluff, IronStrange Bingo 2019, Light Angst, M/M, Tony Stark Bingo 2019, Tony Stark/Stephen Strange parenting Peter Parker | Supremefamily | Strange Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-02-26 14:54:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18719326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HogwartsToAlexandria/pseuds/HogwartsToAlexandria
Summary: "They eventually made their way back to the others, Peter ducking to avoid tickle attacks the whole way there. It was easy to sense the change in his dad’s mood the second they reached the room though. One moment Tony was laughing and teasing Peter to no end, the next his mouth was set in a hard line, his eyes in a black glare of anger.Peter followed his dad's gaze up until he found with exact certainty the reason for Tony's change of attitude."Ironstrange bingo 2019 Fill, I2: "Hurt/Comfort"Tony Stark bingo 2019 Fill, K3: "Playing Games"





	Process

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Another fill for both the Ironstrange bingo and the TSB! Hope you'll like it!
> 
> Much thanks to the wonderful SerenaLunera for beta-ing and cheerleading yet again! <3
> 
> Potential TW in the end notes

The house had been as quiet as ever before everyone arrived - Saturdays were always pretty laid-back in the Strange household and this for a number of reasons, whether Tony and Stephen worked didn't change anything. If Stephen did, he wasn't there, he disappeared in the early hours of the morning, leaving behind him but the dream memories of kisses laid on sleeping foreheads. If Tony did, then he'd be in the lab or at SI so, same result. And Peter was sleeping, invariably sleeping his week and patrols off. It had taken a while for him to listen to his parents as they insisted he at least got one day where he could be but a teenager, a young man allowed the peaceful rest of a Saturday morning spent sleeping in.

So that's what they did then, the three of them sleeping till their bodies and minds were ready to get up. Surprisingly, Peter was always the first up and going on those days. He'd been awake and lounging in the living room for almost two hours when Stephen entered, feet padding softly across the hardwood flooring, fists rubbing at his eyes repeatedly to chase the sleep away. 

He didn't see Peter right away but chuckled when he caught a glimpse of him midway through opening the fridge. Peter was hanging from the ceiling, watching the TV on mute, upside-down. He turned on his thread to look at his father and grinned at the good morning wink he got.

"Hi, Dad," 

"Morning, young man," Stephen went to make his tea, "Care to join me?" 

Peter wasn't going to be told twice. He gracefully got down, sliding onto the couch cushions and sauntering to the open kitchen to sit next to Stephen. He'd already eaten but didn't resist plucking a piece of waffle out of the man's fingers - habits die hard - and stuffing his mouth with it. Stephen didn't say anything, just kept on eating as though nothing happened. He turned around after a while, sitting sideways on his stool to face Peter's side and smiled at the sight of the teen's disheveled curls and the smear of chocolate of his cheek.

"Can't you eat properly yet?" Stephen asked huffing but his hand was already moving, index finger swiping efficiently across his son's skin to gather the chocolate and wiping it out on his napkin. 

Peter smiled, aware of how precious the gesture really was, for all its innocent exterior. 

"I plead guilty," Peter winked.

"Oh yeah? What's your motive?" Stephen raised an eyebrow.

"Eating properly is no fun." Peter crossed his arms only to laugh it out when Stephen ruffled his curls gently.

"Sure."

Tony only came out of the bedroom about half-an-hour later, looking like a train had ironed his face during the night and Peter grinned at the look of utter adoration his father couldn't quite hide when he saw his husband. 

Tony kissed Peter's cheeks and only missed his nose by half an inch with his eyes still closed then moved on to the other man, circling his waist from behind in the simplest looking hug. Peter knew better - he'd witnessed those same hugs for as long as he could remember and he knew just how much strength went into them, he did the same. He ducked his head when Stephen raised another of his infamous eyebrows at him, probably wondering why he was smiling this much. Peter left them to their extensive breakfast, holding their family's quirks close to his heart.

Ever since Thanos had died the Avengers got a lot more time to themselves and, as they individually got around to settling into separate apartments or houses, the team had decided Saturdays would be their reunion day, each time at someone else's place. Today was their day and Peter couldn't wait. It wasn't often that both his dads could be there and he was hoping nothing would come up and take either of them away. 

He'd promised he'd do his homework before everyone arrived so that's what he spent the next two hours on, emerging shortly before noon to see if he could help with anything. There was only so much quantum physics he could do before his brain needed oxygenating. 

He found both men still in the kitchen, elbow-deep in bowls of dough and sauce, bantering as always. 

“Clint texted me, they'll be here any minute now,” Peter said as he entered the room, both men's heads whipping to the side.

“God, Peter! Don't scare your old men like this!”

“Old men? Talk for yourself, Stark!”

“I'm sorry, here I thought my name was  _ Strange _ , had been for close to ten years?” Tony waved a flour covered hand in front of his heart in fake offense.

“Oh shut it, drama boy,” 

Peter grinned, well used to his dads jabs and cries by then.

“What are you making?” 

“Giant pizzas and, if this guy can behave,” Stephen pointed a shaky finger at Tony, “Cookies. Sound good?” 

Peter nodded, a giggle escaping him as Tony blew a raspberry at Stephen.

“Very mature, as always.” 

“You gonna keep being like this?” Tony frowned an exaggerated thing that drew both his eyebrows together in a straight line. 

Stephen didn't get a chance to answer before Tony was stepping forward, away from his baking and his hands smearing flour across his husband's cheeks and into his hair, “Sorry, not sorry, stop me if I'm wrong, or don't, but kissing you seems like the only way to shut you up right now.” And so he did. 

Peter ignored them in favor of flopping down on the couch and playing with his Starkphone waiting for the others to arrive. 

He may have dozed off for a while, how long he couldn't tell, all he knew was that Clint and Quill hollering in the entryway still wasn't a good way to wake up. Never had been, never would be.

“Well well well, lil man, 1pm is no time to nap now is it?” 

A hand pulled at the fabric of his sweater and went on to poke at his shoulders. Peter groaned.

“Lemme be.”

“Stranges! Is that how you taught your kid to say hi? A job half-assed, I gotta say.” 

Neither Tony nor Stephen bothered coming up with a reply and Peter understood why when he finally raised his head from the couch cushions and saw the  _ look _ on Phil's face. Clint quickly shut his mouth.

The house rapidly filled up as everyone arrived and Peter gladly got up and hugged or waved at each new guest. 

No matter how much care and time went into the preparation of these Saturday reunions, eating was always a quick affair once the table was set. There's only so much time the food could last when a pack of hungry avengers had their eyes set on it. 

Which also meant that you had to quickly find ways to entertain said troops. Today would be games, or so the Guardians had decided. 

Peter could hardly wait to take his revenge on Gamora for the last game of tag they'd played in Steve and Bucky's backyard the month prior. He quickly found out he'd have to sit the first game out though - Tony got up and signaled him with a come-hither finger. Peter held his sigh back, it wouldn't take too long.

“C'mon, bud,” Tony went to leave the room, not without dropping a quick kiss on one of Stephen's cheeks. Peter followed.

Even as he was dying to join the others and play Peter savored the time Tony took to check on his homework and new web formulas, the look of utter pride in either of his dads’ eyes could always fill him with a deep-seated warmth the likes of which he was at a loss to find anywhere else.

It took a while longer than they thought it would but they eventually made their way back to the others, Peter ducking to avoid tickle attacks the whole way there. It was easy to sense the change in his dad’s mood the second they reached the room though. One moment Tony was laughing and teasing Peter to no end, the next his mouth was set in a hard line, his eyes in a black glare of anger. 

Peter followed his dad's gaze up until he found with exact certainty the reason for Tony's change of attitude.

The others had apparently chosen to play twister down in the middle of the living room, had even pushed the couch and coffee table to the side so there would be more room and that was all fine. What wasn't fine was the very unexpected sight and yet easily explainable situation of Stephen, currently bent in half over a kneeling Gamora and an enthusiastically shouting Peter Quill. Peter felt a cold sweat spread down his back, the fine hairs of his arms already raising in the twin anger of his dad's. Before he realized what was happening though, Tony wasn't standing next to him anymore but marching very decidedly towards the group. 

Peter saw the look his parents exchanged and thanked his spider-sense for his ability to decipher the mess that came right after, when Tony  _ accidentally _ walked on Quill's outstretched hand over one of the red circles, pretending to go into the kitchen. 

There was a tumble and a cry of hurt and Quill was on the floor, curled up around his hand, the plastic sheet of the game bunching under him as Gamora painstakingly tried to pull away from under his legs. 

No one paid them any attention but Peter saw the way Tony swept Stephen in his arms, holding him below the arms and leading him out of the room. Stephen gave him a small smile as they went and Peter nodded shakily. Seeing his father in such obvious pain had to be the hardest thing he ever had to do, and the worse was those idiots didn’t even notice it.

Quill was still moaning his discontent when Peter found enough of his composure back to enter the room but he could not hold onto his trembling, there was just no way he could stay impassive. 

He sat on the couch with a huff and without looking any of the others in the eye. He tried drowning out everyone’s voices but Quill’s was just grating on his nerves, wonder why, and he didn’t realize he was glaring at the man until Steve’s hand on his shoulder made him jump.

“You alright, Pete?”

Again, and again and again the man complained and even as Peter looked up into the worried blue eyes of one Steve Rogers he could not play the part of the polite kid anymore. He dislodged the man’s hand and stood up, walking straight to where the Guardian was still sitting on the floor, leaned down and downright yelled, “Shut up! Shut up! SHUT UP!”

A silence that of funerals fell onto the room immediately, all conversations and whining cut short. Everyone’s gazes on him didn’t deter Peter from glaring daggers at Quill’s stupid round eyes. His hands were shaking with the need to make a hole in the nearest wall the size of the man’s head. He was going to storm out of the room but it was Steve asking that once again set him off.

“Peter? What is it?” his voice sounded so concerned but he was so oblivious still, Peter felt his blood boil.

_ “What is it?  _ You can’t be serious right?” Peter took a turn of all the faces staring at him, all the people he’d known forever and realized for the first time on this scale that they were indeed all absolutely clueless, and maybe it wasn’t his place to say it but he was sixteen, his dads had been together for almost twenty years and these people still didn’t know? 

“Let me ask you Steve, when is the last time my father shook your hand? Or hugged you hello? Or the last time you’ve seen him have physical contact with anyone in this room that’s not me?” 

Steve stood there, his mouth opening and closing as he struggled to find an answer and couldn’t. Peter could tell the others were all racking their brains for any memory of such a moment as well. No one said a word.

“The last time was  _ never _ .” Peter’s tone was final and dangerous. He whipped around to face Quill again and the man visibly flinched under the strength of his gaze, “And don’t go telling me he volunteered to participate in this idiotic game with you when even his hands would be reason enough not to! How old are you to nag someone else so much they feel obliged to join into something that’s this painful to them, huh?”

Peter’s shoulders sagged as he breathed, all the fight leaving his body at once, “My father cannot stand to be touched by people unless you do it properly which none of you know how to.”

He dodged both Clint and Steve’s outstretched hands this time around and stormed out of the room, hearing Quill’s murmured apology but only barely. 

He walked further into the house into what they called the “ _slumber_ _part”_ , the part of the house that had all the bedrooms. His feet knew more than his brain what he’d find down the hallway, into his dads’ room and he let them guide him back to the two people who meant the most to him, even his spider sense forgetting to keep track of what the others were saying back in the living room. 

The door stood ajar and Peter passed just his head in, he knew Tony had seen him but it didn’t make his dad change any of what he was doing. It’s a scene he’d witnessed a few times over the years, Stephen bundled up on himself, back facing the door and his head lifted just enough to look into Tony’s eyes. They shone with such love and care Peter was floored every time he saw it and he was positive that did more for his father than anything either of them could ever tell him. 

Tony’s hand was set between them, palm up on the covers. He was reaching out without imposing, offering comfort not giving it and Peter couldn’t see it but he was sure the simple gesture was already smoothing out the tense brow he’d seen on his father’s face earlier. He took a deep breath before coming in, hoping his trembling had subsided enough that they wouldn't see it. 

The looks he got as he stepped closer told him to crush that idea loud and clear. Peter immediately felt guilty, his father did not need anymore worries right now but that thought too, got cut right in. Stephen weakly waved him closer, a shushing noise barely audible as he smiled. 

Peter didn't resist kneeling on the bed, the need to be as close as possible pulling him in. He tried being careful about it still and was rewarded by both his dads nodding at the same time. Peter sat close to Tony, his head lolling off to rest on the man's shoulder as they stayed there, the three of them bathing in silence and warmth, in the space that was all them and only theirs. 

Peter may have dozed off on his dad for a while there if the slight dampness of his cheek was any clue but Tony’s arm only drew him closer when Peter stretched a little. 

Stephen was sound asleep and the two of them sighed in relief when they noticed the familiar rise and fall of his chest. 

Peter didn't know how long they stayed huddled in the room and didn't care much, he was too comfortable. He did grow hungry after a while though and Tony most likely heard it because he chuckled silently, kissing the back of his head before giving him a gentle push. 

“Go on, I'll join you in a sec,” he whispered, gaze flicking back and forth between Peter and the resting form of his father.

Peter nodded and got up smoothly, leaving the sheets unrustled in his wake. He dropped a ghost of a kiss on Stephen's cheek before effectively leaving. 

He knew his dad was just going to stare some more at the sight of his husband in sleep, reassuring his heart and mind that he was okay now and the thought filled Peter with a sense of rightness and comfort he couldn't describe properly even if he tried. 

He got to the living room and found it totally empty, the furniture back in its usual place, the dishes made and the games all packed up. The only trace of the others he found was a piece of paper left on the kitchen island. He recognized Steve's handwriting right away, he didn't even know how, he just did. 

 

_ “We thought we'd leave you guys to rest. We want you to know we're all sorry we didn't realize anything was up sooner and hope you can forgive us, especially you Stephen. You're family, we'd never dream of hurting you.  _

_ Quill wants me to tell you he “feels like shit” so here, I'm doing it. I wouldn't put it this way but I guess it's an accurate description of everyone's feelings right now.  _

_ Hope you three have a good night, apologies again. _

_ Cap & Everyone.” _

 

Peter smiled. His father would probably go redder than ever with his misplaced shame but this was a good thing, now Peter could be sure he'd be safe with everyone as well, not just his dad and himself and that was priceless. 

He set to preparing some pasta for dinner. He heard more than saw Tony enter the kitchen and only turned from his task long enough to slide the note over to him with a shrug. 

Tony huffed behind him but Peter heard the same relief he'd felt in the air his dad released. 

“Proud of you, bud.” Tony said and that was it. He went to set the table.

They'd have a quiet meal together before retreating to the bedroom, Peter making puppy eyes at Tony to let him sleep with them the way they used to do back when he was a kid and Tony caving, like always. Stephen would wake up in the morning, Sunday wide and inviting as he’d take in the sight of his family laying in a heap next to him and he'd smile his first smile of the day, feeling loved and loving in return, more than he could ever express it.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Stephen suffers from Touch Aversion/ sensory processing issues: anything other than strong contact hurts. Only Peter and Tony know.
> 
>  
> 
> Got another 5 (?) Completed fics ready to be posted and working on more so stay tuned? :-)


End file.
